Touch
by Attenia
Summary: After becoming human, Castiel struggles to cope without the touch of other angels he is so accustomed to. He stumbles upon a dangerous coping method that Dean will do anything to stop. Trigger warnings for self-harm.


**Castiel **

At first, he did ok. After all, Cas had spent more time in a human vessel, away from his brethren, than most other angels did in many centuries. He'd always known that at any time, he could return to them.

Now, he was human. Now, he couldn't return.

Cas ran his hands down his own arms, shivering slightly. Without the touch of other angels, it seemed he was always cold. He remembered what it felt like not to be confined to a body – to fly freely as a spirit. He remembered brushing against his brothers' and sisters' souls. The heat and the comfort of it was something he'd taken for granted.

"Cas? You alright, buddy?"

Castiel hadn't noticed that Dean had entered the room. "I am fine," he said automatically.

"You cold?"

Cas glanced down at his arms, which he still had wrapped around himself. "No," he lied. There was no point in worrying Dean. The hunter would only want to help, but he couldn't restore Castiel's grace. There was no way for him to help.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're human now, Cas. You need to pay attention to what your body needs. Come here."

Cas didn't complain as Dean wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. It never helped. Nothing did. He didn't know how much longer he could go on like this for. Maybe Dean was right. He had to pay attention to what his body needed. It wasn't blankets or hot showers, he'd already discovered those were useless.

He waited for Dean to leave before pursuing this new theory. It didn't take long for Cas to find a lighter. He flicked it on, watching the flame. It reminded him of his siblings, of their hot, bright souls. Maybe this was what he needed.

Cas slowly stretched out his left arm, holding the flame underneath his wrist, moving it up until it was touching him.

It wasn't like touching other angels. This _hurt_. He jerked the flame away, watching as the skin rapidly reddened and blistered. To his surprise, Cas found himself smiling. This was painful, but it was the closest he'd felt to being near other angels since falling.

Even though the lighter had dropped to the floor, he could still feel the warmth in his wrist. It wasn't a pleasant warmth, but it was still warm, and he would take what he could get.

Sighing in relief, Cas pocketed the lighter. It seemed he'd found a solution to his problem.

**Dean**

Cas was acting weird – weirder than usual, that is. The guy had never really learned what modesty meant, but now, he was suddenly shy about his body. He'd also disappear into his room and lock the door, insisting that nothing was wrong when he came out.

Dean didn't believe it. Something was off. So naturally, he waited for Cas and Sam to be gone on a supply run before installing hidden cameras in Cas' room.

The next time Cas went in and locked the door, Dean hurried to his own room and pulled up the monitors.

For a moment, he thought the cameras must be malfunctioning. Was Cas burning himself?

In the few seconds it took for this to sink in, Dean was running. He didn't bother knocking, but kicked Cas' door down.

Cas dropped the lighter, staring guiltily at Dean.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded.

"Dean – you should not be here. I locked the door, which you have told me indicates a desire for privacy."

"Yeah, privacy if you want to watch porn or something, not char your skin off!" He hurried over, taking Castiel's arm gently in his. There was barely a spot that wasn't burned, and the other arm was no better.

"Take off your shirt."

"No."

"Cas, take off the damn shirt! Some of these look bad, they need to be treated."

Dean didn't understand the sudden panic that came into Cas' eyes. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"They're warm."

"Of course they're warm, Cas, they're burns! Hang on, let me get the medical kit."

When Dean returned, Cas was still in exactly the same spot. Giving up talking sense into him for now, Dean muscled Cas out of his clothes, gasping in horror at what he saw. "What have you done?" he whispered.

"Dean, it's fine. I need it."

"You need it? Why would you need this!"

"It's the closest I can come to touching my brethren now."

Dean's retort died in his throat. He remembered Cas describing how it felt to be with other angels – the heat of their souls, the comfort of their touch. It all started clicking into place, how Cas was always cold, how blankets didn't seem to help.

"Here, hold still." Cas did as he was told while Dean smeared a burn salve on the wounds, bandaging up some of the worst ones. He helped Cas get back into his clothes and sat him down on the edge of the bed.

"We'll find another way," he promised. "But you can't do this anymore, Cas, it's hurting you."

"I have to."

"No, you don't. I'm not letting you."

Castiel's eyes widened. "Please, Dean."

"No."

Dean's certainty faltered when Cas' breathing picked up. "Hey – hey, Cas, slow down there."

Cas didn't slow down. "I – n-need – it –"

"You can't."

The panicked gasps increased, and Dean wondered if he should call for Sam. He didn't know how to deal with this, but Cas was here in front of him freaking out, and he had to do something.

"Slow down, Cas, you're having a panic attack. You're going to pass out if you keep breathing so fast."

Cas tried to speak, but the words came out unintelligible as he continued hyperventilating.

Dean acted on instinct, wrapping his arms firmly around Cas, mindful of the burned areas. "Shh, it's ok," he murmured. "Hold onto me. You're alright."

Cas' arms hesitantly came around him. Dean pulled them so that they were lying down together on the bed. Cas clutched him tightly, and Dean held him just as tightly, saying whatever soothing things came to mind.

Eventually, Cas seemed to calm a bit. His breathing evened out, at least, and his death grip on Dean's shirt loosened slightly.

"How are you doing?"

"Not very well," Cas admitted. "I hate being human. I do not understand what this body needs, or why it does the things it does. Without my grace to maintain it…"

"It'll just take some getting used to," Dean promised. "What just happened now, it's because you were freaked out. Sam will be able to help you find other ways to deal with anxiety, he's better at that than I am."

"But I need the burning –"

"No, you don't," Dean said firmly. "I know you're used to being touched by other angels, but you're human now. This is how physical contact works between us." Dean clasped one of Cas' hands in both of his.

Cas stared down at their hands. "It's warm."

"Yeah, it is. And it doesn't leave burns, so whenever you need this, you tell me, alright? You don't hurt yourself."

"I need this," Cas murmured.

"No shit, Sherlock. I figured that much. What I mean is, you need to talk to me, tell me what is too much or too little. I can't read your mind, dude. Ok?"

"Ok." Cas sighed, resting his head on Dean's outstretched arm. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok, Cas. Just don't do anything like this again. You – you scared me, you know?"

"Apologies."

They lay there for a while longer. It felt strange to Dean – this was most certainly out of his comfort zone, but it was a hell of a lot better than letting Cas fry his skin.

"Dean. I think there is something else this body needs – if I am reading the sensation correctly, that is."

"Anything you need, Cas. What is it?"

Instead of answering, Cas kissed him.

Dean froze under his lips, but that only lasted a moment before his body started responding way ahead of his mind. It was clear that Cas didn't know what he was doing, so why did this feel so good? Dean found himself moaning into the kiss, twisting his hands in Cas' hair.

It was Cas who pulled away first. "Dean? Is this ok?"

"More than ok," Dean murmured. "If I'd known this would happen, I'd have been lobbying for you to become human years ago."

"Is this what it always feels like? How do you deal with it?"

"Well, it's not with everyone. I'm assuming you don't feel the need to kiss Sam?"

"No. That thought is quite unappealing."

"Good. In terms of how I've dealt with it – let's just call me patient."

"I would not call you patient, Dean."

"Hey, I've lasted all these years without jumping you. You made the first move, remember?"

"I remember. Can I do it again?"

"Please," Dean breathed.

**Sam **

Sam didn't comment on the dramatic change between Dean and Cas. Cas no longer locked himself in his room – he and Dean locked themselves in Dean's room. Sam quickly learned to avoid that hallway after hearing some things that he'd never be able to scour from his brain.

He also didn't say anything about the times when Cas said Dean's name in a particular way. Dean would nod and go to Cas' side, sometimes hugging him, sometimes holding his hand, or playing with his hair, or even just sitting next to him with their sides pressed up against each other.

Sam didn't quite understand why Dean insisted that he teach Cas meditation, yoga, and a number of other relaxing activities, but Sam had learned not to question Dean's relationship with Cas. They'd always had something special, even before the two of them acted on it, which they obviously had now.

It was heartwarming to see how happy they were together. And if Sam was scarred for life from the time he'd walked in on them in the kitchen – sans their clothes and doing some things that he'd hoped never to have to witness his brother in the act of – he didn't complain.

If Dean and Cas were happy, Sam was happy for them. Pretending not to notice their small touches and tender gazes was the least he could do. After all, he'd been waiting for this for years, and now that it was finally happening, Sam kept his smug grins to himself.


End file.
